


we've got young blood

by cylobaby27



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Tower, Darcy is a bamf, F/M, also there's phone sex, attempted sexual assault tw, darcy gets by with a little help from her friends, edited for continuity issues sorry, f/m - Freeform, set in movieverse without being compliant to movieverse, working and living in nyc is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: Living in the Avengers Tower was a bit like living in a frat house, only with more explosions and non-disclosure agreements.--In which Darcy Lewis settles into New York life, makes some friends with some superheroes, and falls in love.





	we've got young blood

Living in the Avengers Tower was a bit like living in a frat house, only with more explosions and non-disclosure agreements.  
  
Unfortunately, if the Avengers were the fraternity brothers in this case, that made Darcy like the freshman that got accidentally thrown into the same building by campus housing. At first it seems like she was the luckiest woman in New York, what with the promise of hot men in skintight uniforms, but the reality was having no one know she existed and still have to help clean up after all the messes around the place.  
  
Darcy had been in the Tower for more than two weeks now, and the only Avenger she'd seen was Thor…and that was only when he wasn't bro-ing with the Avengers or having sex with Jane on every surface of their shared floor. Sometimes she walked on in on the latter, but she didn't count those as interactions.  
  
"I swear to God, if I find one more sock on the kitchen counters, I'm going to tase someone's balls off. And since Jane and Thor are the only other ones who use this floor, that leaves only one set of balls up for the tasing!" Darcy grumbles to herself as she flicks the offending article of clothing off the counter onto the floors, where it sits in a sad heap. Darcy had expected StarkTech floors that just absorbed any stray crumbs or socks, but so far it seemed that they were just normal hardwood. Well, imported, million-dollar hardwood, but still.  
  
Darcy jammed two pieces of white bread into the toaster and slammed down the lever. "Sorry, I know you're just an innocent toaster, but I'm pissed. It's seven in the morning, and I have to go to work. Meanwhile, Jane gets to stay in bed and have divine sex. Actually divine!"  
  
"In that case, we should give them another hour before disturbing them," a voice comments from behind her.  
  
She yelps and whirls around, grabbing the butter knife which had been resting on the counter. Dr. Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers are standing on the other side of the kitchen counter. The Captain is dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that was at least a size too small for him, not that Darcy is complaining. Dr. Banner is in a loose shirt repping an Ivy League university and a pair of honest-to-God yoga pants. She wondered if he was subjected to as many catcalls as she was when she left the building in those.  
  
"Sorry to startle you," Captain America says, looking far too adorable for a soldier made of steel muscles. "We were just looking for Thor."  
  
"Mm, you might want to wait a bit. Like I was ranting while you were sneaking up on me, he and Jane are—"  
  
"I heard you," Captain America interrupts quickly, a blush overtaking his cheeks.  
  
Darcy wants to finish her sentence just to see how much redder the national icon can get when Banner says, "Um, I hate to be rude, but…who are you?"  
  
"Darcy Lewis," she replies, snatching her toast as it pops from the toaster. Quickly, she transfers them to a handy paper-towel and puts the butter knife to its intended use. When she finishes, she glances up to see them both looking blank. "Jane's lab assistant. Ex-lab assistant. SHIELD hooked me up with a job, and Jane got Stark to let me move in. Or something. You do know who Jane is, right? I know she doesn't come out much from her lab at SHIELD or her bedroom."  
  
"Thor's girl," Rogers offers.  
  
"You are too cute," Darcy says, unable to hold it in any more.  
  
"I'm Steve," Captain America said, like there was any chance she didn't know.  
  
"I'm Bruce. You live here?" Banner inquires, brow furrowed. It’s not an expression she’s comfortable seeing on the Hulk’s face.  
  
"JARVIS?" Darcy calls. "Please tell these nice Avengers that I'm not a burglar."  
  
"Miss Lewis is not a thief, other than of the occasional Pop-Tart," JARVIS replies dryly from the ceiling.  
  
"Tattle-tale," Darcy grumbles.  
  
Bruce—she did implicitly get permission to call the superheroes by their first names—shuffles uncomfortably. "I didn't think you were a burglar. I was just surprised I haven't seen you around."  
  
"The Tower's a big place," Darcy points out. "Plus, you two are usually busy saving the world. No biggie. Anyway, I hate to bail on our first intro, but I'm going to be late for work if I don't leave..." she checked her phone and winced, "five minutes ago." Wrapping her toast in a napkin and tucking her phone in her purse, Darcy grins at the two superheroes. "See you around!"  
  
"It was nice to meet you," Steve says immediately.  
  
Bruce looks a bit shell-shocked as she darts out of the room, but that's not an entirely unusual expression for someone to have after first meeting her, so she doesn't take it personally. Besides, he looks sort of cute when he's flustered.  
  
***  
  
"Large black," Darcy says for at least the hundredth time that day.  
  
When Coulson had told her that SHIELD wanted to hire her, she had known full well that it was mostly to make sure that state secrets remained under-wraps. Still, she's hoped for something a little bit more glamorous. She would have been happy just being somewhere she could put her newly-completed bachelor's in Poli Sci to use. Instead, she was wearing a plain black apron emblazoned with SHIELD's logo on it, passing out black coffees at a truly absurd rate. Apparently, SHIELD was big enough to rate their own in-house coffee shop, staffed by people just barely over civilian status.  
  
A lot of recent grads ended up working in coffee houses, and Darcy was all for doing what needed to be done to pay the bills. She wouldn’t be a snob about this, even though she was wildly over-qualified. …Still, couldn't these suits think of anything more creative than black coffee? The biggest variation she tended to get was whether it was a large or an extra-large. It probably would have been more cost-efficient to start pumping espresso directly into their bloodstreams.  
  
Though the coffee shop hosted an array of small tables and moderately comfortable chairs, the vast majority of agents took their coffee to go, unable to waste time on frivolous things like sitting down. Several refused to even turn off their bluetooths, instead ordering coffee by pointing imperiously while still talking on the phone.

Luckily, around noon, Darcy hears a booming voice coming down the hall that is always sure to add some excitement to her day.  
  
Sure enough, twenty seconds later, the Norse god of thunder strides into the coffee shop, accompanied by a slender woman in a black cat-suit that Darcy immediately recognizes as Black Widow. Thor is gesturing widely as he speaks, making his silent shadow appear even more contained.  
  
"It was truly a grand battle. You would have found much enjoyment during our victory festival the next week," Thor finishes before reaching the counter. "Ah, Lady Darcy!"  
  
"Hey-ya, Thor," Darcy greets. "What tickles your fancy today?"  
  
"I would be much obliged for a white chocolate mocha," Thor tells her.  
  
"Biggest size we've got, extra whip?" Darcy confirms, already grabbing the cardboard cup.  
  
"Indeed. And how are the delicacies today?"  
  
Darcy peers through the top of the counter down at the array of baked goods. "Eh, the muffins are blah, but that cinnamon coffee cake is pretty delish. Crumbly and mushy in all the right places."  
  
"Excellent! I shall have two," Thor says. "And for Lady Natasha?" He turns his attention to the woman at his side, who is staring impassively at the menu over Darcy's head.  
  
"Large black tea with a dash of milk," Black Widow says.  
  
"Whole, two percent, skim, soy, or almond?"  
  
"Whole," the woman replies.  
  
"My kind of lady," Darcy says, jotting a note on the cup. “Not that I have an issue with people with allergies or something. I just also like whole milk.”  
  
"Lady Natasha, have you met Lady Darcy? She was once the assistant of my Lady Jane."  
  
"You live on their floor," Black Widow says matter-of-factly. Someone knows Darcy exists! "I'm Natasha Romanov."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Darcy says, plopping the bag with Thor's coffee cakes onto the counter. "I'll get those drinks ready."  
  
"How fares your work here?" Thor asks her, leaning against the counter and plucking a bite of the coffee cake from inside the bag. Another customer has come in behind them, but has busied himself with browsing a stack of mugs casually instead of trying to interrupt. Darcy guesses that he isn’t going to last long in the spy industry.  
  
"Boring," Darcy admits as she hits the buttons to start the drinks brewing. "Then again, everything's tame once you've had a Norse god fall in on your work day."

"I know that feeling," Black Widow comments dryly.  
  
"But you get to spend your days fighting super-villains, not making coffee," Darcy points out, pulling out the canister of whipped cream. “You can’t be bored.”  
  
"I believe it takes much to impress the Lady Natasha," Thor explains.  
  
"Fair point. I guess when you're the Black Widow, you've got the right to not be impressed by much," Darcy says. "Here are your drinks."  
  
Black Widow nods politely, and picks up her drink. Darcy had noticed that the woman hasn't taken her eyes off of Darcy while she had been preparing it, and now opens the lid and sniffs it before she takes a sip.  
  
Darcy suddenly wonders how many assassination attempts have occurred inside of SHIELD headquarters. She gets the feeling that answer won't give her any fuzzy feelings of security. Should Darcy assure Black Widow that she wasn’t trying to poison her, or would that sound suspicious? Maybe Darcy should feel flattered that an Avenger thought Darcy might actually pose a threat.  
  
Before Darcy can make up her mind, the two heroes take their drinks and head back to save the world. Darcy makes the next cup of black coffee.  
  
***  
  
Thor and Black Widow aren't the only Avengers to grace Darcy's coffee shop that week. Only two days later, Bruce Banner and Tony Stark stumble in. It is only ten in the morning, but they look like they have been awake for days.  
  
"Coffee, black as my soul and hot as you," Stark says with a smirk that looks a bit punch-drunk. He is wearing a pair of red-tinted sunglasses that are clearly just for style, though they serve the purpose of lessening the effect of the bags under his eyes.  
  
"You got it," Darcy says, since she has been trained out of telling customers that they needed a nap more than another coffee. She reserves that for people who have had a chance to get used to her. Besides, Tony Stark has a sort of awe-inspiring presence, with a larger-than-life personality and the money and fame to back it up.  
  
"Hello, Darcy," Bruce greets. "Just an herbal tea for me, thanks."  
  
"I thought you hadn't been here before," Stark says to the other scientist. "We literally just talked about this."  
  
"Maybe it was a hallucination," Bruce suggests as Darcy puts the drinks together. She’s trying extra hard not to fangirl all over the billionaire tech superstar, so it’s taking more effort than usual to block out the customers’ conversation. “When’s the last time you slept?”

 Stark seems to seriously consider that. “Shit,” he says.  
  
Bruce spares him further distress. "I met Darcy in the Tower," Bruce says. After a moment of silence, he adds, "Because she lives in the Tower. This is Jane's Darcy."  
  
"No shit," Stark muses, looking her over.

“Shouldn’t you know who lives on our floors? JARVIS knew,” Bruce says.  
  
"I was invited," Darcy says, unable to keep her mouth shut. She looked over from where she was steeping Bruce’s tea. "You cleared it. I promise."  
  
"I believe you," Stark assures her. He taps his fingers on the counter. "Though it wouldn't have been the first time someone had snuck in without me knowing."  
  
"Who?" Bruce asks conversationally.  
  
"Coulson. I know I never signed off on that," Stark replies. “I would never. He gives me the creeps.”  
  
"Clint snuck him in. Besides, Pepper probably approved that one without asking you," Bruce points out.  
  
"The Tower is only twelve percent hers," Stark huffs. "Anyway, Darcy—it is Darcy, right?"  
  
"Darcy Lewis," she confirms.  
  
"Stop being a hermit," he declares. "We have a communal area that could use some more estrogen. We don't bite. Though some of us may smash occasionally. Hope that doesn’t bother you."  
  
"I don't usually...in the Tower," Bruce corrects uncomfortably.  
  
"I'm not worried," Darcy reassures him, setting their drinks on the counter.  
  
"Perfect," Stark says, clapping his hands together. "See you later." He picks up his coffee and starts gulping it down. Considering she just made it, Darcy is aware that he’s probably burning his tongue to do so.  
  
Bruce accepts his tea with more delicacy, but no less relief. "Thanks, Darcy."  
  
“Ciao, guys," she says, and then adds, "Get some sleep tonight, okay? I get enough sleep-deprived scientists on my level of the Tower. I expect the communal kitchen to be zombie-free in the morning."  
  
***  
  
When Darcy makes it upstairs to the group kitchen two mornings later, the only zombie present is her.  
  
Bruce and Hawkeye are also in the kitchen, chatting over bowls of cereal. Darcy makes it to the table and then slumps forward, resting her head on her arms. Maybe she can just sleep here.  
  
"Morning, Darcy," Bruce says.  
  
"So this is the mysterious Darcy Lewis," Hawkeye says. She wishes that she was more conscious because she’s always promised herself that she would ogle his biceps if she got the chance. Maybe in a few minutes.  
  
"Are you okay?" Bruce asks her.  
  
Darcy grunts, and then manages to whine, "I didn't _plan_ on staying up all night. It just happened."  
  
"I know that feeling," Bruce assures her.  
  
"I mean, I was just going to watch one episode. Maybe two. But the season was just so good."  
  
"You watched a whole television season last night?"  
  
"Well, I started it at four yesterday afternoon," Darcy points out.  
  
"What show?" Hawkeye asks.  
  
"The OA," Darcy tells him.  
  
"Haven't seen it," he replies.  
  
Darcy sighs. "That might be for the best. It'll ruin your life."  
  
And suddenly, he looks interested. "How?" he asks.  
  
Darcy gives him a contemplative look and then shakes her head. "Sorry, Hawkeye, but I'll give you the low-down when I'm more awake. I need all my energy for that." She glances between them. "Do either of you know how to make coffee?"  
  
Hawkeye wisely stays quiet, but Bruce cautiously says, "Yes?"  
  
"Awesome. Hook me up, please."  
  
He raises his eyebrows. "Aren't you a barista?"  
  
"That's what pays the bills, but it's not like I have a passion for brewing coffee," Darcy says dismissively. When he still hesitates, she pouts. "C'mon, Bruce, I made you tea the other day. You owe me."  
  
"I don't think that's how it works," he says, but not only is there amusement in his voice, but he is standing up and heading towards the coffee pot.  
  
"That's exactly how it works," she assures him.  
  
"Why is he Bruce and I'm Hawkeye?" the archer asks, leaning back to balance his chair on two legs.  
  
Darcy rolls her eyes. "I'm trying to be polite. Jesus, you guys are hard to please."  
  
"I'm a superhero, not the president," Hawkeye returns. "Call me Clint. I'm sure not calling you Miss Lewis or something."  
  
Darcy sighs. "I guess not all superheroes can be alien royalty. Where have our world's standards gone?"  
  
"Hilarious," Clint replies dryly. "Besides, the world can't handle any more Asgardians."  
  
"They don’t have to be Asgardian. Maybe we’ll end up with nobility from a different alien race," Bruce says from across the kitchen. “Though I regret even putting that idea out into the universe.”  
  
"No, it would be cool. Like Superman," Darcy says.  
  
"Superman wasn't a prince," Clint argues. “He was a journalist. That earns, like, negative money.”  
  
"He was literally the only survivor from his planet. His parents had to have had some pull," Darcy points. “It’s not like he was _born_ in Kansas, you know.”  
  
“Jor-El was a scientist. That’s the only reason he was able to make the spaceship that transported Kal-El to Earth," Bruce says.  
  
Darcy whirls around to look at him. "You're a total nerd!" she declares happily.  
  
The scientist flushes slightly. "I've done other things except science and saving the world," he points out, but it sounds like an apology.  
  
"No, this is awesome," Darcy assures him. "Totally adorable. Geekery is totally hip."  
  
Bruce blushes even harder.  
  
"Yeah, you are still way too hero-worshippy if you think the Avengers are cool. This should not surprise you at all. Everyone in the group is a big dork," Clint says. "Yours truly excluded."  
  
"You know every song from Disney's Robin Hood," Black Widow says as she comes into the room. "And I'm not a dork."  
  
"It's just that no one would ever say it to your face," Clint replies. At her glare, he adds, "If you were. But you're obviously not."  
  
Bruce sets a full cup of coffee in front of Darcy. "You are my hero," Darcy says, curling over the mug and letting the smell and warmth overwhelm her senses.  
  
"I actually save the world for a living," Bruce muses, "and the first person to say that to me is talking about coffee."  
  
Darcy's heart breaks a little at that, and she gestures for him to sit down. "Well, if you ever save my life, you'll be double heroic. Personally, I mean. You have to share hero status with the rest of the group for the Chitauri shenanigans. I promise if you save my life _specifically_ , I’ll call you a hero every day."  
  
"Thanks," he replies dryly, but his smile is more genuine.  
  
***  
  
Darcy is in her bedroom, scrolling through a forum on the internet about Superman since Clint and Bruce sparked her curiosity, when Jane barges in. Jane tends to get so wrapped up in her own work that she forgets that her best friend is living next door, so Darcy tends to forgive her for not knocking when she does show up. Jane Foster is a whirlwind of nervous energy, sitting primly on the edge of Darcy’s bed like they haven’t saved the world together. Darcy closes her laptop and nudges Jane’s shoulder so that she sprawls backward. Darcy smiles as Jane starts talking immediately. It’s nice to have company.  

Once Jane tells her why she’s come, though, Darcy’s enthusiasm falls.

"It'll be fun!" Jane prods.  
  
"Then why do you need me for emotional support?" Darcy questions.  
  
"Not emotional support," Jane corrects. "Just so we have another non-superhero to even things out. When it's just me and all of them, I feel a little inadequate."  
  
"You're half the reason they even have Thor at their beck-and-call," Darcy points out. “They should feel inadequate around your sheer brain power. Besides, Thor loves you.”  
  
"But I'm not a superhero. It’s weird for me to be the odd man out," Jane says. "C'mon, it's just a movie night. A group of friends hanging out. You love friendship and movies."  
  
"I'm all for friends, but most of them didn't even know I lived here a week ago," Darcy says. “It will be way weirder for me to crash than for you to just go alone.”  
  
"They're watching Star Wars," Jane tells her, waggling her eyebrows enticingly. She knows Darcy’s weaknesses.  
  
"Episode?" Darcy asks, biting her lip.  
  
"Five. They watched New Hope last week," Jane tells her. "Tony has convinced everyone into tricking Steve into thinking there were only ever the original three. Not that anyone argued too hard."  
  
"I'm in," Darcy says. "Who am I to turn down Han Solo?"  
  
***  
  
The Avengers all in one room together are... loud. Popcorn flies everywhere, both accidentally during big hand gestures (mostly by Thor) or by being thrown at someone's head (by everyone equally). Half the movie is spent arguing over scientific inaccuracies and the other half is arguing over the tiniest details of each alien's history and home planet.

Darcy is on one enormous couch with Thor and Jane on one side, and Bruce on the other. Natasha, Tony, and Steve share the other big couch, while Clint sits perched on the back of it, legs draping over Natasha’s shoulders.  
  
Tony spends the entire movie simultaneously working on a holograph and joining in on the ongoing conversation as though he is giving the film his full attention. Maybe for him, even that fraction of his attention is more brainpower than most people can spare. Darcy decides she’s impressed instead of annoyed. (Also, that’s _Tony Stark_. He invented half the things currently in her backpack.)

Clint is the main one doing target practice with the popcorn, though the majority of his shots land on the other superheroes instead of her and Jane. Since Jane is probably only getting a free pass because Thor takes personal issue with people teasing her, Darcy considers herself lucky that her hair has remained butter-free.

It is raucous and overwhelming, with more going on in the rest of the living room than on Tony’s enormous flat-screen.

Darcy loves it. 

Back in Utah, Darcy was one of five children, and the Lewis family is far from quiet. She has always felt far more comfortable with shouting and teasing than calm quiet.

Thor is highly amused by George Lucas’s portrayal of aliens and space travel. “I still say one cannot travel at such speeds through the Nine Realms in such a vessel!” he exclaims as Han Solo and Leia land on an asteroid.

“Please, the Millennium Falcon was way sexier than your sparkly rainbow bridge,” Darcy informs him.

“Sometimes something that looks like junk is better quality than the flashier things you could find on the market,” Tony comments.

 “StarkTech is all flashy,” Clint says, landing a piece of popcorn on the top of Tony’s head.

 He shakes it off. “Yeah, well Stark tech is the singular case where you can get the best and the most beautiful. Like me.”

 There is a collective rolling of eyes that Darcy participates in with enthusiasm.

 "That would probably be Steve,” Natasha comments from her corner of the couch, making the super-soldier beside her blush.

 “I’m not the best or the…” Steve protests, trailing off uncomfortably.

 “You kind of are, though. That’s an ass crafted by the finest science,” Tony says.

 Darcy giggles as embarrassment and offense played over Steve’s face. For such a decisive general on the field, he is a bit softer in his personal life. Darcy likes seeing the man behind the mask.

Glancing over at Bruce, she wonders what he is like when he isn’t on the job. As the Hulk, he is a mean, green, raging machine, but he is nearly invisible in the room with so many big personalities. His comments are rare and dry, sneaking into the conversation without drawing undue attention to the speaker. It is a strange contrast. When the Hulk was on the battlefield, it was hard to look away. The rest of the time, Bruce seems to actively dissuade attention. If this is what he is like with his team, Darcy wonders how much quieter he is when he’s uncomfortable.

 Still, his comments have some spark, from criticizing the science behind Cloud City to muttering along to some of Yoda’s lines in a horrendously awful imitation of his voice. He may have occasionally looked like a kicked puppy, but Bruce Banner has some sass.  

 His expression grows closed off when Leia admits her love for Han just as he is being lowered into the carbonite. Even as Darcy mutters along with Han’s, “I know,” she leans over and gives Bruce’s hair a quick ruffle in attempt to cheer him up. He glances over, confused, so she offers him some of the Raisinets she smuggled in.  

 He still looks confused, but accepts the candy. His posture relaxes slightly, and she considers it a good start.

 

***

 

“Hi Darcy. I’m grabbing a coffee for Tony and a hot chocolate for me, please,” Steve says several days later. It’s the tail end of rush hour at the coffee shop, when people stopped in after their lunch break for a hit of caffeine. Steve has waited patiently in line, though Darcy had spotted him the moment he walked in. There aren’t an excess of six-foot tall blondes at SHIELD, much to Darcy’s dismay.

“I’m guessing larges for you both?” Darcy asks, grabbing the cups.

He nods. “I’m glad you use normal sizes here,” he comments as she sets to work.

 “Someone took you to Starbucks?” she guesses.

 “They didn’t even make sense,” he says, clearly exasperated. “They called the large ‘venti,’ but the medium is the one with twenty ounces. Venti means twenty, you know.”

 “I did not know, actually. So you speak… what is that, Spanish?”

 “Italian,” Steve says, “But not much. You’d be surprised what you could pick up during the war. Soldiers were from all over, and most couldn’t speak more than their native language. You learn to compromise.”

 “I took a few years of Arabic in college, but it was mostly because the script was so pretty. Spoiler alert: it’s not as pretty once you see it as words instead of a cool pattern,” Darcy says.

 “I still think it would be worth it,” Steve says. “Learning a language can give you such an insight into the culture. Then again, I was mostly learning the swear words…”

 Darcy raises her eyebrows and leans forward. “Oh, that I could learn. Could you teach me?”

 Steve opens his mouth to answer, but then stills, head tilting to listen to something.

 “Honestly, I don’t know why we have to put up with him,” an anger coming into the coffee shop is saying to his friend. They both were wearing the generic navy suits and harried expressions of the SHIELD office workers. "If I had the resources he had, I could probably make a suit just as easily. He doesn’t even add anything, you know? It’s just money, money, money.”

 “God, I know,” says the other. “Did you see that obnoxious interview he gave on CNN last week?"

Steve makes a quiet, angry sound, somehow both sad and furious at once. Darcy doesn't even need to see the alarming tenseness in Steve's shoulders to know that this is Not Good.

The agent, oblivious to the battle-ready blonde in front of him, is focused on his friend. "He’s awful. I hear that even Fury didn't want him on in the beginning. Said he was too narcissistic. I wonder what it took him to bribe his way in." 

The other worker catches sight of Steve standing at the counter and the smirk drops off his face.

The first agent is still oblivious. "I honestly can't wait for the day Fury drops his spoiled ass."

Steve finally turns around. "You should show some respect," he says in a voice that is far too calm to be actually calm.

The worker obviously recognizes him immediately. "Oh, hi, Captain Rogers. Sorry, sir. I didn't mean anything by it," he says, and then spoils it by adding, "I don't have anything against Stark. It's just, we all know that the only reason you keep him around is his money, so..."

Steve is another step closer before Darcy can blink. With his height and broad shoulders, Steve literally looms over the other man. Darcy was already becoming so accustomed to the bashful Cap that blushed when his team teased him that it’s startling to see the solider again. "Tony Stark is ten times the man you could ever be."

The worker looks like he's about to piss himself, but Steve either doesn't notice or doesn't care. If anything, his looming is getting more dramatic.

"He slaves away and sacrifices himself every day to make sure that people like you can have safety and security in their lives. You shouldn't talk about him behind his back, not when we both know you would never say a word of that to his face."

"I'm sorry," the man replies. It's obviously an instinctive reaction. Steve's sudden aggression has to be triggering all of the possible fight-or-flight chemicals in the other man's brain—it's not every day you get stared down by a man who could break your back with one hand.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Steve says evenly.

Darcy finally manages to maneuver around the counter. Without hesitating, she sets herself slightly between them, facing Steve in a way that her shoulder is blocking the unfortunate man. "Listen, Steve, it's noble that you're sticking up for Tony, it really is, but if you start a fight in here, I'm going to have to clean it up. And I don’t like cleaning broken tables and mugs and stuff. Or blood." 

Steve's eyes dart to her face. "But he—"

"Yes, Cap, he's an asshat for talking shit about Tony. But everyone needs to vent sometimes, and he did say he was sorry." She waves a hand behind her back, and she hopes the agents take the opportunity to put some distance between them and the angry Captain America.

Steve looks pained. "Tony does so much for these people; more than they could even guess. I hate hearing that people still can't see beyond his old image."

"I know it sucks, but you can't beat up everyone who bad-mouths your team," Darcy says. "Otherwise, you'll have to travel around to every muckraking gossip-rag around, and that would just be a hassle. Even living in New York, there’s still like one on every block."

Steve is starting to deflate. "But _Tony_..."

Ah. Darcy had been beginning to wonder if Steve had even noticed the sexual tension between him and their local billionaire. Maybe the good captain was starting to realize that the fluttering in his stomach wasn’t just because he cared so much about Tony as a teammate.

"Tony's a great guy," Darcy assures him, "but he's no damsel-in-distress. If he were here, he'd probably just laugh before having JARVIS destroy this guy's retirement fund." She glances back at the agents, who look more terrified by that idea than by Steve. "Kidding,” she adds, entirely untruthfully. “But he wouldn't want anyone getting hurt over some stupid words. Right?"

"Well..."

"Great." Darcy turns to the men. His friend had obediently moved several feet back, but the talker hasn't budged. "Get out."

He hesitates and then says, "But my coffee—"

"Out," Darcy repeats. "Come back when you've got some common sense. Some manners would be nice too."

The men exchange a glance and then leave the room at a walk that is nearing a run, brushing right past the suit that is standing in the doorway. This suit, however, is familiar.

"Agent Coulson," Steve greets. He looks slightly bashful when Coulson raises a single eyebrow. In their occasional interactions, Darcy has learned that Coulson was his most expressive when his face barely twitched.

Darcy places Steve's drink order on the counter, and he gratefully takes the excuse. "I've got to get these to Tony," he says.

"Go ahead," Coulson says pleasantly.

Looking like a puppy expecting to be scolded, Steve skirts past the agent on his way out the door.

When Coulson approaches the counter, Darcy raises her eyebrows. "Let me guess. Black coffee?"

"I actually prefer chamomile. But I actually had a question. Do you like being a barista?"

Darcy hesitates. "Is that a trick question?" she asks drily.

"Let me rephrase. Would you like a new job?"

 

***

 

"Assistant handler?"

"That's right," Darcy beams, scooping some penne onto her plate. Tony has ordered in a variety of Italian dishes in aluminum containers for the group, and they are passing them around the kitchen table.

"What does that mean?" Jane asks.

"Well, that means I'm Coulson's right-hand girl. Duties include filing Coulson's top-secret forms, acting as a liaison between the Tower and SHIELD and helping missions go smoothly. From an administrative position."

"So you're Coulson's...secretary?" Clint says.

"No," she replies, disgruntled. Still, she deflates slightly.

"At least say 'glorified secretary,'" Tony corrects. Before Darcy can protest he adds, "And are you sure SHIELD wants us to know you're supposed to liaison? What's the point of having an inside agent if we all know you're here? You’re being a terrible spy already."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "I'm not a spy. If that's what they wanted, they've got the wrong girl. Coulson just thinks I'm a good person to have around."

Steve is looking progressively more awkward, but Darcy hasn't told anyone about the misguided chivalry that landed her the job. He doesn't need her to make him any more uncomfortable.

Besides, she's saving that gem of information and potential teasing material for a special occasion, just in case. Maybe once he gets comfortable enough around her to tease her back.

"That's great," Bruce says.

"You want a SHIELD lackey in our Tower?" Tony questions.

"You know I work for SHIELD too, right?" Jane asks.

“That’s different. Your loyalties are clear," Tony says. Considering Jane is practically sitting on Thor's lap, he doesn't need to clarify what he means.

"Maybe SHIELD realized that sneaking around you guys was just going to piss you off. Maybe honesty is the new policy," Darcy suggests.

"Or you were supposed to keep it a secret and just didn't get the memo," Jane points out helpfully.

Darcy huffs. “Thanks, Jane.”

"We all work for SHIELD in some capacity, so Darcy working there and living here is not that different," Bruce says to Tony. "Besides, it would be nice to have a SHIELD liaison who doesn't spend every conversation with me with their finger on a trigger."

"You’re a good one, Bruce. Try some garlic bread," Darcy says, placing a breadstick on his plate.

"Look, she’s bribing you already," Tony declares.

Rolling her eyes, Darcy corrects, "I'm rewarding good behavior with delicious food. Also, he needs to be fed. He barely had anything on his plate."

"I'm not that hungry," Bruce says.

"It doesn't matter. There's just something about you that screams 'feed me.'"

"In like a Seymour-the-carnivorous-plant way?" Clint asks.

"In like a look-at-that-stray-puppy way," Darcy says. “Also, ‘not a dork’ my ass.” She turns quickly to Bruce. "Not that you look like a stray dog. Just that you look like you might have had it rough, so I want to make things better. That sounded kind of creepy. I meant it in a non-creepy way."

Bruce looks slightly uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry,” Darcy adds, slightly desperate now.

"Still worried?" Steve asks Tony.

Tony looks between Bruce and Darcy with an expression she doesn’t like. "She can stay."

 

***

 

"Hey, hey," Darcy says a week later as she knocks on Bruce's lab door in the bowels of SHIELD's headquarters.

Bruce looks up, adjusting his glasses. "This isn't the best time," he says, hesitating.

"This isn't a social call. You didn't turn in your mission report from yesterday. Coulson sent me to collect." She adds a little Brooklyn accent in for effect, cracking the knuckles on one hand.

"You're not exactly threatening," Bruce says, sounding amused.

"I know where you live, buddy. You'd better do it now, or I'll just pester you at home." He glances back at his microscope. She sighs. "Come on. If Coulson fires me, I'll be back to coffee-brewing. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

"Fine," Bruce says, holding out a hand for the file.

She hovers expectantly after handing it over, so he opens it with a long-suffering sigh and begins writing. 

Darcy, who had become accustomed to entertaining herself while being ignored in laboratories during her years as Jane’s assistant, sits in a nearby chair and observes the room.

Bruce's lab is not much more cluttered than Jane's had been, but rather than being stuffed with just papers, it is an abundance of vials, machines, take-out boxes, and wrappers that take up the room here. It’s basically a biological wasteland.

Once Bruce looks like he's wrapping up with the forms, she asks, "Shouldn't you be anti-clutter?"

He glances up at her with raised eyebrows. "Why would I be?"

"Doesn’t all this throw off your Zen balance?"

"If I couldn’t be around things that mildly bother me, I would never be able to walk outside. It's better to acclimatize myself where I can. This is just good practice."

Darcy looks around the room contemplatively. "You don't even notice how gross it is down here, do you?"

He laughs. "Fine, you’re right. Before you mentioned it, I didn't even realize it was so messy. When I'm focused on my work, I don't see much else."

She eyed an ancient-looking takeout box. "Do you eat all your meals down here?"

He shrugs. "Well, I usually get something to eat on the go, so messes like this don't build up. I try not to sit down with... people."

Darcy frowns. The idea of Bruce sitting down here alone upsets her. "Well, why don't I bring food down for you? We could eat down here, instead of both being alone. Not that I’m always alone or anything, but I am for lunch, so we could both hang out. Unless you'd rather be alone. That's totally cool, too."

"You want to have lunch with me?"

"It'll be fun," she says with a shrug. "Besides, though I'm _usually_ decent at making friends, most of SHIELD knows me as that barista that got the promotion they had been eyeing, so there haven't been many overtures of friendship."

And of course, with Bruce being a superhero and all, it's the offer to help someone else that convinces him. "Of course you can have lunch here," he says, handing her the completed mission report.

"Awesome! I'll be back down in an hour or two with some grub. And thanks for filling out your form. Now I've got to track down Tony and Clint. Tony I can understand, but Clint's a trained agent. Filling out paperwork should be second-nature to him by now."

Bruce nods thoughtfully. "He might be testing you."

"Testing me?" Darcy asks, offended. “I thought Clint and I were tight.”

"Or maybe he’s messing with Coulson. He does that sometimes. Just wait until he starts dropping out of air vents onto your head."

"He does that?"

"Not to me, obviously, but I'm pretty sure the rest of the Tower has gotten it at least once. He likes to keep people on their toes."

"Thanks for the warning," Darcy says, torn between worry and excitement.

Bruce adjusts his glasses. "Also, if you want to get Tony to cooperate, you'll have to learn how to play him. He can be stubborn."

Darcy leans forward. "Any tips?"

"I would say to go through Pepper, but I'm sure Coulson has tried that before. Tony is hard to pin down sometimes. It might not be enough to just ask him nicely."

"Thanks. I’ll figure something out," Darcy says, tapping him gently on the head with the file. "I'll see you for lunch. I expect a full lesson on getting the other Avengers to cooperate with me."

"I’ll try," he promises with a quirk of his lips. It’s unfairly endearing.

 

***

 

"I don't see why Coulson won't let me out into the field yet," Darcy complains as she measures a cup of flour. The communal kitchen counter is strewn with ingredients and bowls, but Darcy has a firm policy to never clean until the food has been cooked and consumed. "It's not like I want to become an Avenger or anything. If I'm going to be his assistant, I just should at least be out in one of those black SUVs with Coulson!"

"Aren't you still in basic training?" Jane asks as she fidgets with her phone at the kitchen counter. She’s barely out of the range of the kitchen’s mess, just close enough that she’ll be able to make a play for the batter once it’s ready.

As part of her new job, Darcy had been signed up for the basic training that all SHIELD agents went through, which covered everything from gun safety to emergency protocol. Yesterday they had covered what to do if New York was invaded by sea creatures and SHIELD's commanding officers had been transformed into octopi. It was oddly specific.

"Well, yes, but I hate just sitting around doing nothing while they're out there fighting for their lives," she complains. "How do you do it?"

Jane sighs. "It's hard," she admits, "but I know that they're all looking out for each other. No one on that team would let anyone else get hurt if there was any way to stop it. They would do anything for each other. I just have to trust that the team is going to be enough."

"Sure,” Darcy says slowly. “Are you checking the news on your phone?"

"Twitter, and no one's saying anything!" Jane admits, practically flinging her phone at Darcy. “It’s driving me crazy!”

Darcy glances down. "The Avengers tag? Hm, DTennantLuver10 says that Thor just electrocuted a piece of moving gelatin. The pic's really blurry though." Handing the phone back, she muses, "Maybe people should be running instead of tweeting?"

"Normally I'd agree, but this is how I get information that hasn't been filtered by SHIELD," Jane says. "If Coulson lets you in the field, I’m going to demand actual updates. I just need to know if everyone's okay." She glances down. "Oh, apparently the Hulk just smashed one of them... and then got a bit smashed himself. He’s okay, though. It sounds like it just made him angrier."

Darcy winces. "Poor thing. They're going to regret doing that."

Two hours later, the Avengers stumble into the Tower looking worse for wear, but all in one piece.

"Are you all okay?" Jane asks, hurrying forward to give Thor a hug. It’s a testament to their true love that she doesn’t hesitate even though he’s splattered with some sort of slime from head to toe.

"We are well," Thor assures her. "The monsters have been defeated. It was a valiant battle."

"It was nasty," Tony corrected. "I'll be cleaning snail guts off my armor for days."

"At least it wasn't in your hair," Steve says, shuddering. "On that note, I'm going to go take another shower. That decontamination spray didn’t get the actual stuff off."

"Weren't you all down and dirty during the war?" Tony asks. “You should be ready to march to Poland covered in goo.”

"This century has non-stop hot showers, and I'm taking full advantage of them." He nods to the team. "Good work today, everyone. Take a break"

The moment Steve left the room, Darcy exclaims, "Damn, I forgot to tell him! I made you guys cookies. We have to save some for him."

"Homemade cookies?" Tony asks, looking intrigued.

"Yep." Darcy grabs the plate from near the oven and brings it over. The Avengers lean closer. "They're my mom's recipe. Oatmeal and raisins. They're not as burnt as they look, I promise."

"Um, I have stuff I need to do in the workshop. Important stuff," Tony says before bolting from the room.

Natasha smiles blandly. "I try not to eat sugar after a battle. I need protein to re-energize. Thank you though," Natasha says.

Clint takes one look at the cookies and laughs. "Those look horrific, Darce. Haven't we gone through enough today?"

Natasha smacks him on the back of the head and drags him away.

"Jerks," Darcy grumbles, turning to Thor and Bruce. "More for you guys, then!"

Thor grins and grabs a handful. "Excellent!"

Bruce looks less enthused, but gamely takes a cookie. Darcy helps herself to one as well, since she was the one that took the time to make them. Natasha, Clint, and Tony were going to regret not taking advantage of her baking.

Jane and Thor move to cuddle on the couch, so Darcy ushers Bruce over to sit at the counter.

"So how was the fight? You're okay, right?"

Bruce shifts uncomfortably. "It takes a lot to hurt the Other Guy," he says. "I don't remember much of it, though."

"That's probably a curse and a blessing," Darcy says.

"I see it differently depending on the day," Bruce admits. "Sometimes it’s more disconcerting than anything. Bue has saved a lot of lives. I hope that balances it out on the larger scale."

"Still, I'm glad you're the one who comes home and not him," Darcy says thoughtfully. "Not that I have an issue with the Hulk... I mean, the Other Guy. I just like having you around, and I don't think your green half would be as much fun to talk to."

Bruce munches on another cookie as he thinks that over. The movement seems more mechanical than out of a real appreciation for her cooking, but she’ll take it. "Thanks," he says eventually.

She shrugs. "I like not having alien overlords, so shout-out to the Hulk’s epic power, but human company is necessary on the day-to-day basis."

"Speaking of day-to-day, how is the job going?"

"Well, you may have noticed that I was here baking instead of out there assisting, so not perfect. Still, I'm learning a lot and it's definitely more interesting than steaming coffee."

"And how’s Coulson? Not giving you too much grief?"

"He’s a suit, but he apparently is also a dry-humored badass motherfucker, so we're actually getting along great. Fury and his one-eyed glare can be intimidating, though."

"You met with Fury?" Bruce asks, sounding appropriately awed and worried.

"He called me up to his office two days after I got hired. I think he scheduled it right after I got done with an hour of running laps for physical training so that I would be off-balance and sweaty while he rocked his black trench coat and looked scary. I felt like a fly that he was about to swat."

"He might have tried to throw you off, but it has to take more than a little sweat to break Darcy Lewis," Bruce comments, taking a third cookie without prompting. “Am I right?”

Darcy grins. "Well, once I realized what he was trying to do, I just plopped down into one of his nice leather seats anyway. It felt nasty, but it was worth it to see his face. He asked me why I wanted to work with the Avengers, and I told him that I didn't want any of you to end up as smears on the city sidewalk." She winks. "I also threw in that I was living here, and therefore had an attachment to everyone being happy and healthy."

"Did he threaten to send you to Antarctica if you leaked confidential information or something?"

"Ghana, and I just told him that I had better things to tweet about than you guys burning dinner and making us eat take-out for the third time this week," Darcy says.

Bruce laughs. "You know, I think you're just about crazy enough to be amazing at this job."

Darcy taps her chin thoughtfully. "I think those are literally the exact words Fury used at the end of our meeting." She pouts slightly. Bruce glances at her lips, which makes her glow a bit. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Definitely a compliment," Bruce assures her. "We're all mad here.

 

***

 

“Jane,” Darcy whines, slumping on the counter as she watches Jane fix breakfast the next morning. “This sucks.” 

They are the only two in the kitchen on their floor, since Thor is still snoring from his room. Since the rest of the Avengers have either been up for hours or have only just gone to bed at seven in the morning, Jane and Darcy have taken to eating breakfast alone together.

“What sucks, honey?” Jane asks idly, stirring the scrambled eggs. “Fix us some toast.”

Darcy drags herself to the cabinet to pull out a loaf of bread. “My life sucks. I think I’m in love.”

“And that’s a bad thing? Love is the most beautiful part of life.”

“Give me a break, soulmate-of-a-god. It is when he’s about ten years older than me, a genius, and totally out of my league!” Darcy complains.

Jane gives her a surprised look. “You know Tony only has eyes for Steve, right? I thought everyone knew that. You shouldn’t even try on that one. I don’t care how great your boobs are.”

“Not _Tony_ ,” Darcy says, crinkling her nose. “ _Bruce_.”  

Jane finally gives Darcy her full attention. “You have a crush on Bruce Banner?” she exclaims.

“He’s just so cute and cuddly and smart and nice,” Darcy says, sticking the bread in the toaster and turning the dial to almost-burnt. “How can you _not_ love him?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m dating a demi-god,” Jane points out with a smirk. “Maybe I just don’t get the mortal thing anymore.”

“Oh yeah, just rub your happiness in my face,” Darcy grumbles. “You’re burning the eggs.”

Jane jumps and turns back to the stove, stirring the eggs again. Thoughtfully, she adds, “I guess I can see it. You two are really cute together.”

Darcy sighs as she grabs a stick of butter from beside the oven to spread over the toast. “Don’t even give me hope. Like I said, he’s an Avenger. I’m may be buxom and charming, but I work for Coulson. I bet Bruce got a perfect SAT score back in his day. He even ate my burned cookies!”

“I don’t think Bruce would care that you didn’t go to Harvard,” Jane points out. “He obviously likes to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but probably in a ‘what a cute potential little sister’ kind of way. Why can’t I just have a crush on that stupid intern that keeps eyeing me in the lobby? I could definitely get him in bed,” Darcy says.

“Because he eyes you in the lobby and doesn’t actually talk to you?” Jane suggests, beginning to plate the eggs. “Listen, if you really like Bruce, don’t give up. At first glance, I would have thought that the Norse god of thunder was out of my league too, but what matters is that we make each other happy.”

“Not everyone gets a fairy-tale, Jane,” Darcy replies, sliding the toast onto the plates.

Jane shook her head. “Just don’t give up on him yet. Who knows? Maybe he’s worried that he’s out of _your_ league! You are hot as hell and way too young for him. He should be worried.”

Darcy just sighs and grabs a fork. “You’re a good friend, Doctor Foster.”

 

***

  
"How did you get all of these reports in on time?" Coulson asks, appearing at Darcy's desk and displaying the Avengers' most recent batch of field reports. Their corner of the building is largely devoid of the general bustle of office drones, since Coulson was at the top of the food chain, which meant they could freely discuss Avengers business without worrying about the security clearance of everyone around.  
  
Darcy smirks. "Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
"Yes, actually."  
  
A quick glance shows that Coulson's expression is entirely serious, as usual. "Because I'm both charming and cunning," Darcy explains. At a raised eyebrow from Coulson, she elaborates, "Also, Bruce helped me find everyone's weaknesses."  
  
"And what were they?"  
  
"That's confidential," Darcy says.  
  
"Miss Lewis, you'll find that there is nothing beyond my clearance level," Coulson tells her.  
  
With a roll of her eyes, she admits, "Well, Bruce and Steve were in the bag. All they need is a pout and some batted eyelashes. For Natasha, I just had to show that I respected her, but was also a part of the SHIELD structure that she needed to respect. Also, I begged. I think she thought it was funny."  
  
Coulson's lip twitches slightly, but he masks it quickly. "Continue."  
  
"And then for Clint, I bet him that I could beat him in Mario Kart. If he lost, he had to fill out the forms."  
  
Now he finally starts looking as impressed as Darcy's feat deserves. "And you won?"  
  
"Word to the wise: Mario Kart isn't about reflexes or eyesight, Coulson. It's about knowing the short-cuts and being merciless when it comes to big jumps and well-timed lightning strikes.  
  
"And speaking of lightning, you know I've got an in with the big guy. I told him that Jane would be upset if I got fired just because he was too lazy to fill out his report, so he jumped on that. Sorry if it's a bit long."  
  
"The more detailed, the better," Coulson assures her. "And Stark?"  
  
"Well, obviously that was the toughest. I'm not sure you could have pulled it off."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because I put on my tallest high-heels and my most expensive suit, and then channeled my inner-Pepper." Darcy had been going for intimidation and awe, but Tony had dubbed her 'mini-Pepper' and had given her a cookie and a pat on the head along with the completed report, so she wasn't sure she had succeeded. Still, she had gotten the job done, so it had been worth it, even if the cookie was stale. "And there you go. Easy-peasy."  
  
Coulson looks at her for a long moment and then mutters, "Thank God you're on our side," before walking away.  
  
***  
  
Darcy is feeling proud and confident by the time she left the office that night, like maybe she was finally getting the hang of this secret agent gig.  
  
Of course, every superhero—or superhero tag-along—eventually learns that attitudes like Darcy's lead to mistakes.  
  
It’s almost eleven at night, but the city street is still warm and muggy. The smell of the city is even stronger than usual, nothing like the dry, clean air back in New Mexico. Darcy is making the fifteen-minute walk from SHIELD headquarters near Times Square and the Avengers Tower alone, since none of her roommates at the Tower work predictable hours.  
  
She has been walking the same route for weeks now, and never saw a problem with it before. It’s Midtown, not Harlem. There’s no reason to be paranoid, even when she takes the less crowded streets..    
  
The first wolf-whistle, she ignores. The second makes her grit her teeth and lift her chin a bit higher.  
  
"Hey, gorgeous! C'mon, turn around," says a male voice behind her.  
  
Darcy doesn't turn, but her hand drifts towards her purse. A quick scan shows that the small side-street she is on is otherwise completely empty, though rumor has it that New Yorkers tend to ignore anyone's problems that aren't their own.  
  
"Don't be like that. We just want to talk to you."  
  
There are at least two of them. It's probably just some drunk assholes who think they're being funny. It's only when another man steps into her path from a side street and refuses to budge that she realizes she might be in real trouble. There’s construction happening in the area, shutting down traffic nearby and leaving the street mostly empty.

If there was one thing that her SHIELD training had drilled into her head, it was that it was always better to run than to try to engage in a fight. However, with the men behind her coming up quickly, and the one in front of her already too close for comfort, running is out of the question. Darcy may not be wearing her mini-Pepper heels, but even in flats she wasn’t confident in her ability to outpace these men. The one in front of her has the lean, hungry look of a wild dog, making her think that letting him chase her would just make everything more entertaining for him.

Instead, Darcy steps sideways and turns so that her back is against the brick wall, and she jams her hand into her purse to find her taser.

“That was really rude not to turn around when we asked,” says one of the men who had been following her, moving to stand in front of her. There is confidence in his stance, and his eyes sweep over her body with obvious interest. “What, do you think you’re too good for us?”

“Actually, yeah,” Darcy snaps. “Obviously you agree, or you’d have asked to buy me a drink in a bar instead of cornering me with a bunch of your loser friends.”

“You bitch,” he snarls, taking a step closer. “Maybe you should watch your mouth.”

The man who had appeared in front of her, whom she mentally names Coyote Ugly, leers. “I’m sure we can find something else for her to use that mouth for.”

“Back off. You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Darcy says, fumbling in her purse with increased desperation.

The men laugh, and the mouthy one steps even closer and then puts a heavy hand on her shoulder. It’s at that moment that her fingers finally clench around the reassuring plastic rectangle at the bottom of her purse. Without hesitating, Darcy drops the purse to the ground, lifts the taser, and fires directly at the man in front of her. It is intensely satisfying to see the shock turn to pain in his eyes before he drops to the ground in front of her.

“Yeah, that’s about what Thor said when we first met too,” Darcy says, readjusting her grip and looking at the remaining two men. “Who’s next?”

The one on her left, the one in the blue hoodie who had followed her with his now-unconscious buddy, hesitates, but Coyote Ugly steps forward immediately. She strikes out with her taser, but he grabs her wrist and twists, making her fingers reluctantly unclench. The device drops from her hand to the sidewalk with a loud clatter.

Even as the man begins to smirk, Darcy uses her other hand to punch him as hard as she can in his solar plexus, leaving him gasping for air.

“You’re going to pay for that,” the one in the blue hoodie says, looking more confident now that the taser is out of commission.

She attempts to step over the first man’s unconscious body so she can gain more leverage, but Blue Hoodie takes advantage of her momentary distraction to lean forward and grab her ponytail. Immediately, she reached back to hold onto the base of her hair, alleviating the pain, and used the momentum of him pulling her sideways to turn towards him and jab him hard in the throat. Choking, he let go of her, but she followed up with a fierce kick to the groin.

Meanwhile, Coyote Ugly has apparently recovered, because she is suddenly grabbed from behind, her arms pinned to her sides. Though alarm pulses through her body, she is already following through with the motions that her training has taught her. It’s surprisingly easy to shift her center of gravity down, and then spin, hook her leg around one of her attackers, and sweep his feet from under him. He hits the ground hard, looking dazed, but she can’t resist following up with a solid kick to his head.

Breathing hard, she checks to make sure that all three men are down for the count. Blue Hoodie is still groaning, but they’re not getting up any time soon.

She snatches her taser from the ground and zaps Blue Hoodie once for good measure. “Assholes,” she mutters.

 

***

 

Darcy doesn’t remember the rest of her walk to the Avengers Tower. She blinks, and she is standing in the communal kitchen. The lights are too bright, and everything seems too calm.

Bruce is pouring a mug of tea at the counter, but he looks over at her. “Hey, Darcy,” he greets, and then his eyes sharpen on her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice sounding unsteady to her own ears. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He sets the mug on the counter firmly and approaches her. She realizes that she has been standing completely still in the middle of the kitchen. “What happened?” he asks, concerned eyes searching her face.

“It was just—Wow, stop it, emotions. We were going to be cool about this,” she scolds herself when she realizes that there are tears in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let some stupid jerks ruin her night. She shakes her head and then tells Bruce, “It was just some guys messing with me. Don’t worry, I beat them up before they could do anything. I called the cops to scrape them off the ground. I’m completely fine.”

The concern on his face is quickly being replaced with anger, which she distantly realizes is a bad thing, but she is more focused on the fact that a dry sob is suddenly escaping her mouth. “Oh. I, uh, think I’m in shock or something.”

She meets his eyes and sees a flash of green, which is her only warning before the man in front of her suddenly gains several hundred pounds in muscle and rips out of all of his clothes except the pair of shockingly-purple elastic boxers that Tony had designed especially for these situations. “Um,” she says, hands starting to shake again. “Hi.”

“Darcy hurt?” the Hulk demands, leaning down so that his large face is directly in front of hers. Considering how shaken she already was feeling, it’s not the most reassuring sight. “Bad men hurt Darcy?”

“No, Darcy is fine,” she assures him with an attempt at a reassuring smile. The expression on his face is still a mix between worry and anger, and she’s not entirely sure where it’s directed. “Honestly, I—”

Steve suddenly runs into the kitchen behind them, skidding to a halt when he sees Darcy and the Hulk. He doesn’t get between them, but he’s on the balls of his feet, clearly ready to jump forward if he has to. “Darcy, just stay calm,” he said, Captain America voice firmly in place despite the fact that he’s shirtless and wearing a pair of faded sweatpants. She knew that there is a system in place to warn the Avengers if Bruce Hulks out in the Tower, but she hadn’t expected such an immediate response.

“I am calm,” Darcy protests, wiping any lingering tears from her eyes.

The Hulk whirls around, placing himself between Darcy and Steve. Darcy can barely see past the large green man in front of her, and every time she tries to lean around him, he shifts to block her from sight again. He’s trying to protect her. From _Steve_.

“Hulk, this is not the time or the place for this,” Steve scolds. “You’re scaring Darcy.”

The Hulk glances back at her, but Darcy shakes her head. “I’m not scared of you,” she promises quickly. “I’m just still…” She trails off, thinking about what would have happened if those men had come after her a few months earlier, before she had started her training at SHIELD.

Before she realizes what is happening, the Hulk has gently swept her to the corner of the room and resumes his stance firmly in front of her. The enclosed space should be making her anxious, but she feels oddly… safe.

“We don’t want Darcy to get hurt,” Steve says, his voice approaching. “You need to step away from her.”

There is a low growl from the Hulk, so close that she can see his torso vibrate slightly.

Darcy hears the hum of the Iron Man armor before she hears the slide of the face-plate and Tony’s voice saying, “Status.”

“He has Darcy,” Steve says quietly.

Darcy leans against the wall behind her and sinks to the floor. Her new position makes her feel slightly more stable, and has the added bonus of letting her see through the Hulk’s legs to where Steve and Tony are standing on the other side of the kitchen. She waves.

“Whatcha doing back there, Darcy?” Tony asks, voice friendly even as his eyes scan her for injury.

“Just chilling,” she responds. “I’m seriously fine, guys.”

Steve frowns. “Can you tell us what happened?” He takes a step forward, but when the Hulk growls again, the soldier freezes.

“I was just telling Bruce about these guys who attacked me on my way home and… here we are,” Darcy explains succinctly.

“Are you okay?” Steve demands immediately, looking her over for injury again.

“I’m fine,” she insists. “I kicked their asses, actually.”

“Darcy smash,” the Hulk says proudly.

“Hell, yeah,” Darcy says with a laugh. Looking back at Steve and Tony, she continues, “I’m just a little… shaken up. When I got home I just lost it a little. Apparently even Mr. Zen here can’t handle a crying girl.”

Tony snorts and says, “I’m not even a little bit surprised. He’s probably never seen a crying woman before. But seriously, Bruce, Darcy can take care of herself, obviously. All you’re doing is freaking her out.”

“I’m not freaked out!” she insists. “It’s not like he’s going to hurt me. I think you guys are escalating things a bit.”

Steve is unmoved. “I’m sorry, but this situation is unstable. You need to help us make him calm down.”

Darcy wants to argue that they should trust their teammate, especially when he’s just trying to protect her, but she knows that raising her voice really could make the situation worse. “Bruce,” she says, standing up and putting a hand on his back. His skin ripples slightly under her touch, and she is awed by how tiny her hand seems in comparison to his bulk. “Bruce, I’d appreciate if you chilled out. I’m fine, okay? Totally fine. In fact,” she continues conspiratorially, “the only people here who are freaked out are Cap and Tony, so let’s cut them some slack, all right?”

She can feel his breaths slowing slightly under her hand.

“Yeah, that’s it. Besides, I’m in the Avengers Tower now. There is literally no safer place on Earth. I’m safe.”

It takes a few minutes, but the form in front of her finally shrinks, leaving behind a weary-looking Bruce. His eyes widen as he takes in the deliberately calm silence in the room, and he looks up at Darcy with worried eyes. “Are you okay? Did he—I—hurt you?”

“I’m _fine,_ “ Darcy says for the umpteenth time. “You were just worried. It was sweet,” she adds, smiling at him.

Once Bruce is calmed down and finally drinking the tea that is sitting on the counter as Steve prepares a new mug for Darcy, Clint drops from the vent directly over where Darcy had been standing. “That was stressful,” he declares. “You sure you’re cool, Darce?”

“I’m fine. Besides, apparently you were creeping above me the whole time,” she points out. “The Hulk didn’t even come close to hurting me.”

“I know,” Clint said, leaning against the counter. “I meant about what happened earlier.”

Darcy shrugs and accepts a mug of steaming tea from Bruce. The warmth in her hands makes it easier to stay calm. “It’s not like I’ve never had people catcall at me. I mean, this _is_ New York and I _am_ curvalicious. These guys just went too far, so I taught them some respect. Apparently my SHIELD training hasn’t been a complete waste.” She sighs. “It’s not like this is something unusual. I was just lucky I could fight back."

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Bruce says quietly, the tension clear in his voice.

“I thought harassment was not as common anymore. What about all those movements I learned about?” Steve asks.

“People speak out about it more, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of jerks who still think women are just around for their entertainment.”

“That’s wrong,” Steve says, and even though he’s just in ratty sweatpants, Darcy can practically see his spangly uniform.

“It’s reality,” Tony replies.

Steve turns to him, frowning. “Just because it happens doesn’t mean it’s right. It’s social injustice, Tony.”

“Look, assholes like the ones who came after Darcy tonight deserve everything they got, and they’ll be getting more if I track them down,” Tony assures him. “But, let’s be honest. If we put every guy who whistles at a girl in jail, there wouldn’t be any guys left. Hell, I’d probably already be in for life.”

“I wouldn’t,” Steve says icily. “You’re supposed to be looking out for people, not making them feel uncomfortable in their own cities.”

Tony blinks. “I just—”

“I’m going to call NYPD and tell them to see if they can’t tell us whether they collected that scum off the streets earlier. I want to make sure they didn’t get away,” Steve says decisively, leaving the room before Tony can get another word in edgewise.

Turning to Darcy, Tony insists, “I wasn’t condoning their behavior or anything.”

“I get it,” she tells him. “In case you haven’t noticed, though, Steve’s the kind of guy who’s not going to put up with hearing about this kind of stuff.”

Looking crestfallen, Tony says, “You think he’s really pissed at me?”

“He’ll get over it.” Darcy takes another sip of tea, feeling even steadier. “I don’t think there’s much he wouldn’t forgive you for, especially if you promise to stop being a dick. Steve looks at you like you hung the moon.” She takes in his spluttering reaction with raised eyebrows. “Huh, I didn’t know Tony Stark even still had the ability to blush. Honestly, you two just need to admit you’re in love and kiss already.”

“Oh please,” Tony mutters. “Like you’re one to talk.”

Darcy’s eyes immediately flick to Bruce, catching the blush that floods his cheeks even as he tries to cover it by taking another gulp of tea.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Darcy looks at Bruce with wide eyes and a growing smile. "You mean you don't think I'm just young and weird?" she asks.  
  
"I, uh," Bruce says, flustered.  
  
Smile morphing into a full-blown grin, Darcy leans forward and pecks Bruce on the lips. "I like you, too," she confides.  
  
Bruce stares back at her with a shocked expression. She starts to pull back to give him some breathing room when he sets his mug heavily on the counter, wraps his hands around her waist, and pulls her in for another kiss.  
  
He may have been on the run for years, but Bruce sure knows how to kiss. It starts out slow, slightly disbelieving, but once tongues come into play, all bets are off.  
  
When they break apart, Darcy is beaming. Bruce searches her face. "Is this okay? I mean, you just—"  
  
"This is fine. There's a big difference in the douchebag guys on the street who came after me and the superhero who transformed into the Hulk because he wanted to look after me," Darcy points out, bopping him on the nose with one finger.  
  
"But I..."  
  
"We'll talk about this in private," Darcy tells him gently before turning to Tony, who is caught between gaping and leering. "Now, did that seem so hard? Man up and go find Steve."  
  
Still standing by the fridge, Clint is cackling so hard that he is nearly bent in half.  
  
"Ugh, seriously?" Tony demands, looking among the three of them, and then leaves the room in a melodramatic huff.  
  
Clint turns to them with a grin. "All right, guys, remember the rules. No sex in the common areas.” He pauses. “That's pretty much the only rule."  
  
"And that one only counts if you get caught," Darcy adds wisely. When Clint opens his mouth to argue, Darcy says, "Don't even pretend that you've never had secret spy sex with Natasha somewhere you shouldn't have."  
  
Clint shrugs. "Yeah, but we're master assassins. No one could catch us even if they tried. We haven’t done it in years though."  
  
"Should you really be discussing Natasha's sex life with us?" Bruce questions, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"She won't kill me," Clint reassures them, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "Probably."  
  
Darcy rolls her eyes and grabs Bruce's hand. "Come on. Let's go to your room."  
  
As she leads him down the hallway to the elevator, enjoying the feeling of his warm hand in her own, he mutters, "This is insane."  
  
She glances over her shoulder at him. "Tell me about it."  
  
The moment they're in the elevator, she turns and pulls him into another kiss. She tugs gently at his bottom lip and teases him with gentle pecks until he growls softly and pulls her closer, slotting their lips together perfectly.  
  
The elevator dings all too soon to declare that they have reached Bruce's floor. While Darcy was stuck on the same level as Thor and Jane, since she was part of the package deal, Bruce has a whole level to himself. Not only that, but he has the level farthest removed from the busy communal areas, giving it a sense of peaceful isolation. It is partly because of Bruce's need for his own calm space, but Darcy suspects that it is mostly because Bruce is Tony's favorite.  
  
"This is nice," Darcy comments as they enter. The lights come up on dim automatically, which may be an attempt on JARVIS's part to set the mood. It's a spartan set-up, but there are several water features and a sense of feng-shui that even Darcy can feel. If her heart weren’t pounding so hard from the night’s events, she might have even found it calming.  
  
"Do you want the tour?" Bruce inquires.  
  
Darcy smiles at him. "You really mean that, don't you? Most guys would take me straight to the bedroom."  
  
Bruce hesitates, and Darcy wonders if opening her big mouth has stopped this before it's even started. "I think we should talk."  
  
"You can't break up with me before we even date," Darcy exclaims. It is meant to be sarcastic, but comes out closer to upset than she would have liked.  
  
He just shakes his head. "You like tea, right?"  
  
She follows him into the kitchen, practically bouncing in place with nerves while he methodically prepares a pot of chamomile.  
  
She is impatient and it feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. There has been too much adrenaline in her system tonight, and the sudden quiet now is making her crash.  
  
By the time he hands Darcy her tea, she is on the verge of just screaming at him to _do_ something. Instead, she takes a sip of tea and allows herself to be ushered to the small kitchen table that sits next to a wall of windows that looks out over the dark Manhattan skyline.  
  
"So. Talking," Darcy says with a strained smile. "My favorite."  
  
Bruce looks uncomfortable, so she doesn't interrupt him when he begins to speak slowly. "Darcy, getting involved with me is...would be... Is that even what you want? To be with me?"  
  
"Well... yeah. Bruce, I've had a crush on you for ages. Of course I want to date you. Is that...not something that you want? I thought earlier that maybe that was the hint, but you know me and social cues. Sometimes they just swerve right past me and I have no clue what's happening. Like right now."  
  
"I like you. Of course I like you. But, I don’t do casual, not when it’s so risky. I'm the _Hulk_. There are a thousand dangers wrapped up just in that. Not to mention the fact that I'm far too old for you."  
  
"You're also the sweetest guy I've met in a long time. I went through an asshole phase, and I'm not going back there again. Besides," she adds, "I'm not afraid of the Hulk."  
  
"Famous last words," he mutters.  
  
"So if you want this and I want this, what's the problem?" Darcy asks.  
  
Bruce just blinks at her. "You don't think that the fact that I’m a giant monster that has enemies in every corner of the world and could crush you without hesitating isn't a problem?"  
  
With a simple shrug, Darcy says, "He didn't crush me earlier. I know he could," she assures him when he looks ready to protest, "but he didn't. And if I've got the Hulk watching my back over something as little as New York thugs, then why should his actual enemies scare me? You don't think you'd try to protect me against a super villain too? And I say ‘try’ because I am, in fact, a SHIELD operative. I'll probably be busy saving myself."  
  
"You're insane," Bruce breaths incredulously, but he's smiling.  
  
"Well, someone told me that we're all mad here, so I guess that's a good thing," Darcy points out, taking an unaffected sip of tea. “So, we should date.” When Bruce still hesitates, Darcy rolls her eyes. “Okay, what is it?”

“The Hulk usually emerges when my heart rate exceeds a certain point,” Bruce says delicately. “It would make certain activities particularly dangerous.”

“So like no rock climbing?” He looks uncomfortable, so she adds, “Just spit it out."

“I’m not sure I can have sex.”

Darcy’s jaw drops, but she quickly tries to act less shocked. “You mean you haven’t had sex since you became the Hulk? That’s been, like, _years._ ”

Crossing his arms, Bruce defends, “I’m not an animal. I can control myself. Monks are celibate for decades.” 

“I know you _can_ , but that doesn’t mean you should have to,” Darcy exclaims. “Does that mean you can’t even, you know, by yourself?” She adds in a hand gesture with raised eyebrows.

“I didn’t want to risk it,” Bruce admits, the blush on his face getting darker with every sentence.

"I knew you had self-control, but that's really impressive," Darcy says. "Sad, but impressive. I’m not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. I prefer enthusiasm from all teams. So, are we dating?"  
  
"You want to date me even if I probably can't...?" Bruce inquires.  
  
Darcy leans across the table and drops a kiss onto his surprised lips, tasting the chamomile tea they were both drinking. "We'll worry about that bridge when we come to it. For now, we can just date. I like you for your company, not just your adorable face and bod," she assures him.  
  
Bruce looks at Darcy as though she is the first sunrise he has seen in years, like she is some kind of source of hope and beauty. Darcy doesn't think anyone has ever looked at her like that, and she knows she's making the right decision here. "Kissing and snuggling are okay, right?" she asks.  
  
He nods. "They should be." She's gratified by the way his eyes track her lips.  
  
"Then let's pop in a movie," she suggests. "Make it one we've both seen, though, because I expect some casual making out and lots of heavy cuddling."  
  
***  
  
Darcy sleeps in her own room, but only for the last few hours of the night. Despite staying up late, she feels rejuvenated and happy when she strolls into the kitchen. Apparently, she's not the only one though. It takes one look at Steve sipping his orange juice and staring at the newspaper with a small smile for her to know what has happened. "Finally!" she exclaims.  
  
"What?" Steve asks, looking up at her with startled eyes.  
  
"You and Tony," she elaborates. "Let me guess—there was fighting, a confession, and then a happy ending or two?" When Steve still looks slightly confused, Darcy adds, "You have that I-got-laid look." The one Darcy wishes she had.  
  
Steve flushes, but smiles. "I don't kiss and tell."  
  
Darcy gives him a friendly grin. "Good for you guys. I'm glad you guys finally admitted there was something there." She takes another minute to enjoy the way Steve's smile lot up the kitchen—because even someone dating someone as adorable as Bruce can appreciate the gorgeousness that is Captain America—before grabbing her cup of coffee.  
  
Unfortunately, she has to put it back on the counter immediately when she sees Thor barreling into the room straight towards her. He immediately scans her from head to foot, his gaze torn between concerned and furious. "Are you unharmed, Lady Darcy?" he demands. "I have heard tale of your ordeal. Have the knaves who attacked you yet been punished? For if not they will soon know the wrath of Thor's hammer."  
  
Darcy smiles up at him. Thor may have been a big lug sometimes, but he has had Darcy's back since New Mexico. "I'm fine, big guy. Don't worry about me. And don't worry about those guys either. They got a taste of Darcy Lewis's wrath, and it's just as...shocking as yours."  
  
"Ah, you implemented your noble taser," Thor deduces. "It is a fine weapon and has served you well. However, I wish to confront the blackguards myself."  
  
"Thor's not the only one," Steve admits, losing some of his morning-after glow as he stands up. “I talked to the cops last night. There was a patrolman in the area last night who picked them up. They’re in a holding cell nearby. I was thinking about stopping in.”  
  
"Seriously?" Darcy says.  
  
"We shall find them and make sure that they pay," Thor insists, eyes sharp and serious. Darcy doesn't doubt for a second that he would follow through in a heartbeat.  
  
She begins to feel a bit cornered by the large, blonde men in the kitchen with her. Maybe she’s still unsettled from the night before, but the looming, aggressive figures are not helping her zen. "Look, they were creeps, but I'm not going to spend any more time thinking about them, okay?"  
  
"Darcy, if there's a chance they might go after someone else, someone without your training or your guts, they may turn out to be worse than just 'creeps.' If we can prevent that, we have to try," Steve tells her, looking as noble as ever despite his ruffled hair.  
  
Darcy reaches for her coffee mug, but then sticks her hands in her pockets when she sees that they are shaking. "It's not like I want them to hurt someone else. I just don't want to let them hurt _me_."  
  
Steve's brow furrowed. "There is no way we would let them come after you again," he promises.  
  
"You don't get it," Darcy says, gesturing sharply. "If I waste any more time thinking about them, about what could have happened, about what _did_ happen, about what might happen, then I lose, you understand? Because honestly? What happened freaks me the fuck out. Some thugs tried to assault me, and I was lucky to get away."  
  
"Lady Darcy..." Thor begins, but Darcy presses on.  
  
"But I don't want to be scared of this city, so I'm going to focus on the fact that I walked out okay and then move on with my life. I can't waste my time, my life, on those assholes. The problem is, I'm not sure I'll be able to forget it all if I just keep talking about it, so I'm asking you guys to drop it." She can't look at their sympathetic expressions anymore, so she stares down at her coffee mug. "I know that's not the Avengers way, or even probably the healthiest way. Maybe it makes me a coward or an idiot. But it's what I'm doing."  
  
"May I?" Thor requests tentatively, arms open, and Darcy nods. Stepping forward, she meets his embrace halfway and lets herself be engulfed by enormous demigod arms. For someone prone to making ribs creak with his enthusiastic hugs, Thor is impressively gentle, simply holding her tightly enough to assure her that he still has her back. After a moment, she breaths out and feels some of the tension the conversation has created drain from her body.  
  
When Darcy finally steps back, her hands are no longer shaking. "Thanks."  
  
"You are not a coward nor a fool, Lady Darcy. Woe onto the being who suggests otherwise," Thor says firmly.  
  
At their side, Steve nods firmly. "You do what you need to do to feel safe. I know Tony's already working on setting you up with an emergency call button in case you need our help again, but we don't have to talk any more about last night."  
  
"We shall speak of this no more," Thor agrees.  
  
Though the look they exchange guarantees that they'll be looking into doling out justice behind her back, Darcy is simply relieved to drop the topic. Picking up her mug, she says, "I have to leave now or I'll be late and I'd really rather not have to deal with Coulson's disapproving face this early, so I'll see you boys later."  
  
She heads for the door, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, "And thanks. I'm lucky to have friends like you."  
  
***  
  
Darcy is at her desk, resisting the urge to open the Internet on her computer and start browsing instead of doing her paperwork, when she hears a quiet cough from behind her.  
  
Turning, she sees Bruce. "Hey, handsome," she greets. "What's up?"  
  
"Are you free for lunch? You always bring me down food, but I thought you might want to go out instead," he offers. "Lunch out is a more official date than movies on the couch, if you're up for it." They’ve been spending at least a few nights a week for the last month curled up on the couch on Bruce’s floor, just enjoying each other’s company. Still no sex, but Darcy isn’t complaining. Bruce is great, and she feels cherished in her arms, even when they’re just snuggling.  
  
Darcy beams at him, already standing up from her desk. Coulson’s emails can wait an hour or two. "Sounds great."  
  
They go to a nearby diner that is tucked slightly off the main streets and is decorated with a gaudy 50s theme. Darcy, however, is charmed by the roller-skating waiters and happily orders a burger and a chocolate shake.  
  
Bruce follows suit with a veggie burger and a strawberry shake, and then they are left alone to chat.  
  
Despite his initial nervousness, Bruce is quicker than Darcy had expected to slip back into the relaxed rhythm of conversation that they had created during their platonic daily lunches. Darcy sips her milkshake and happily listens to Bruce recount his adventures in Kolkata, which he makes seem like a series of zany events rather than several months of living as a fugitive.

“Moving into the Tower must have seemed like heaven to you,” Darcy says. “I can’t imagine going so long without indoor plumbing.”

“You learn to make do,” Bruce says. “I was desperate. If anything, the Tower was overwhelming at first. Everything was so easy that I didn’t trust it. Besides, living in the middle of Manhattan seemed like a nightmare. No matter what Tony said, I didn’t think the Tower could really contain the Other Guy if the worst happened.”

“And now?”

“Now I trust my teammates to stop me if they have to,” Bruce says. He looks haunted.

Darcy twirls her straw around her milkshake. “You weren’t going to hurt me, you know,” she says. “The other night, I mean.” He starts to speak, but she interrupts him, “I know it freaked you out. If I blacked out and turned big, I’d be anxious too. But he wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was trying to _protect_ me.”

“I shouldn’t have put you in that situation at all,” Bruce says. “I’m supposed to have control over it. I don’t trust him not to lash out and hurt people I care about.”

“How is it any different from going out into the field with the other Avengers? You don’t smash them.”

“I have before. They’ve had to take me down by force. Either way, I know they can fight back,” Bruce says. “I’m not going to let you get stuck in a room with the Other Guy again.”

“I just want you to know that I’m not afraid,” Darcy says. “I feel like you’re already on the verge of doing the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, and it’s only our first date.”

“If I were more responsible, I wouldn’t have let this happen in the first place,” Bruce says, gesturing between them. “I don’t want to put you in danger.” He shook his head. “But I’m selfish enough to risk it.”

“News flash, Banner. Loki tried to smash me long before you came into my life. You’re not being selfish by dating me. I’m a rational, consenting adult here. My life is going to be in danger anyway. I’d rather have the smash machine at my back instead of you distancing yourself out of shouting distance, you know? Besides, if you think Thor would let you hurt me then you have another thing coming. I’m tight with the Asgardians, and he doesn’t even need a Hulkbuster to take you down.”

Bruce nods thoughtfully.

“You’re definitely the first boyfriend I’ve had that’s been reassured by the shovel talk,” Darcy muses, tossing a crumpled straw wrapper at him.

He catches it with surprising ease and twists it around his fingers. “I imagine I’ll be unique in a lot of ways,” he says, disparaging.

She winks and catches his shoe under the table for an impromptu game of footsie. “I’m counting on it.”

 

#

 

When asked, most people assume that Darcy is an only child. It’s something to do with her self-confidence, which people seem to think only comes from being the center of their parents’ lives for eighteen years.

The truth is that Darcy is right in the middle of five Lewis children. Her two older brothers are in law and medicine, her youngest sister just started at Yale, and her final sister is a starving actress in L.A. Darcy has signed enough non-disclosure agreements that she can barely tell them that she’s a secretary, much less that she’s Agent Phil Coulson’s number one minion.

Darcy is self-assured, but after the third hint from her mother about going back to grad school for another degree, Darcy is on the breaking point.

It’s Thanksgiving, and she’s been guilted into coming home by her parents. The rest of her siblings had booked their flights back to Utah months ago, so she had to eventually ask Coulson for the time off. Coulson, apparently seeing that Darcy is hoping that he’ll turn down her request, signs off on the PTO with a flourish.

“Get out of the city, Lewis,” he had said. “If I don’t make you take at least a few days off from working and living with the Avengers, I’ll probably be sued by OSHA. It’s a health risk to spend too much time with them non-stop.”

Darcy had tried to argue that it was a health risk to spend time with her family, but her argument had been ignored. Now she’s stuck in Utah for the next three days, fulfilling her role as the family underachiever.

It’s not that her family doesn’t love her, or vice versa. She loves seeing everyone…in small doses, one on one. When the Lewis family gets all together, things devolve into competitions at the drop of a hat. Without being able to talk about the vast majority of what makes her life interesting, Darcy has to bite her tongue and lose every argument.

“It’s terrible,” Darcy says over the phone to Bruce on the second night. She’s just consumed her weight in turkey and sides, but the post-dinner conversation about her younger sister’s new acting troupe had left her with a sour taste in her mouth. Lucy was supposed to be the other disappointing Lewis, but she was on the verge of moving from ‘starving actress’ to ‘avant-garde icon.’ “Marvin just got promoted at his law firm, John is making more money as an orthopedic surgeon than should be legal, Lucy got a star review in the LA Times, and Julie is already in charge of two clubs at Yale.”

“You save the world,” Bruce points out. His voice is a low rumble on the other end of the line, soothing and comforting.

“No, I help _other_ people save the world,” Darcy corrects. “ _I_ do paperwork. Everyone thinks I’m wasting my potential. Like, come on, I grew out of my slutty slacker phase during college. It’s like they don’t even know me.”

“Maybe they don’t,” Bruce offers.

Darcy sighs and lays back on her pillow. At least she has her own room, tucked at the end of a long hallway lined with siblings and their significant others. Her bedroom is painted dark teal, still lined with posters of the bands she’d loved in high school.

“I wish you could have come with me.” She tries to imagine introducing Bruce to her family and then retreating to this room at the end of the night. Bruce would have looked out of place on her grungy bed, but he would have made the experience more enjoyable. His quiet snark and solidity would have been a nice balance for the Lewis whirlwind.

He laughs. “So I could suffer with you?”

“So we could suffer _together_ ,” she says. “Seriously, though, I’d like to show you off. My siblings wouldn’t feel so superior if they realized that my boyfriend is a genius _and_ a complete hottie. We wouldn’t even have to tell them about your day job. Bruce Banner would be enough to impress.”

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think your parents would be impressed by the Other Guy,” he says. “It’s not like the Fosters meeting Thor.”

“Everyone is impressed by the Other Guy,” Darcy argues. “He’s big, green, and can punch the lights out of any demi-god. I think I win.” She sighs. “I don’t think Coulson’s ready to bring the Lewis family in on my real job, though. He’s worried that my mom will brag at church, or that Lucy will try to use the connection to bump up her acting career. Fair points, but still. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says, soft.

She snuggles down into her comforter. “You’ve got such a good voice. It’s nice talking to you before bed.” She doesn’t specify why it’s so unusual—Bruce has a firm policy against sleeping in the same room, just in case a nightmare triggers the Hulk. It’s been an argument over the last few weeks, but since they’re not sleeping together figuratively either, Bruce hasn’t been easy to sway on the literal side. Darcy’s sure that if she could get him post-coital, he’d let her cuddle up and sleep through the night in his arms.

“What are you wearing?” Bruce’s voice is slightly hesitant, but dark and interested.

“Oh my god, really?” Darcy asks. She glances down at the enormous shirt that she’s wearing, which advertises a punk rock band in faded print. “Lace,” she says. “So much lace. And silk. It’s really all very sexy.”

“Are you alone?”

“My sister is next door but I promise I’ll be super quiet if you’re going where I think you’re going with this,” Darcy says. She feels a thrill all the way down to her toes. “Please tell me you’re going where I think you’re going with this.”

There is a moment of silence, and then Bruce speaks again. His voice is a low, sensual rumble. “Take off your clothes.”

Darcy barely contains her thrilled squeal. She shimmies out of her shirt and stuffs it under her pillow. None of her family has barged into her room uninvited in more than a decade, but she wants to have her shirt close at hand in case of a fire or other disaster.

“After all,” he muses, “I know you were lying about the lace. And I’d prefer you naked anyway.”

“Naked, yes, I’m naked,” Darcy says. She realizes that her voice has gotten too loud and takes it down to a whisper. “Yes.”

“Touch yourself.”

“Oh my god, Bruce,” Darcy says.

She can almost hear his eyes roll through the phone. “Do you want to do this or not?”

“Yes, absolutely yes,” Darcy says.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructs. “Then use them to play with your nipples.”

Darcy obeys. This is like the adult version of Christmas morning. Her shock and delight fade into pleasure as she does what she was instructed. She’d touched herself before—her first foray with masturbating had been in this very bed—but there is something about knowing that Bruce was on the other end of the line, instructing her, thinking about her, that makes her own fingers feel electric.

“Bruce,” she moans as quietly as she can. “Are you...”

“Pinch,” he says, interrupting her.

She pinches her nipples reflexively, sending a jolt of sensation through her. She pants, trying to remember what she had been saying. “Are you touching yourself too?” she asks. 

The silence stretches on a moment too long. “I shouldn’t,” he says.

“You’re in your room in the Tower, right? Your very Hulk-proof room, right?” Darcy asks, nearly desperate. She needs to know that he’s enjoying this too, that she’s able to affect him as much as he is her. “Please,” she says. “Please do this with me.”

With a groan, she can hear him acquiesce.

“You’re in your room?” she confirms.

“On my bed,” he agrees. “I don’t think I can last long. Touch yourself.”

“Perfect,” Darcy says. “Because this is revving my engines like crazy.”

He huffs a laugh at her phrasing, then breaks off with a groan.

“I have to be quiet, but you don’t,” Darcy reminds him. “Please talk to me. What would you do if we were together? Nothing to worry about, nothing to stop us. What do you want to do?”

“I want to pick you, throw you on the bed, and tear your clothes off.”

Darcy hadn’t realized how controlled Bruce had been until he lets go. There’s so much raw hunger in his voice that she’s stunned. The idea of her sweet, gentle Doctor Banner so overwhelmed by lust that he just takes control is…enticing. A rush of warmth collects at her center.

“I just want to touch you,” he continues, “to show you how much I want you. I’d flip you over and stick my head between your legs. I bet you taste amazing. Keep touching yourself. Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes, yes,” Darcy moans. Her hand is working furiously against her core, pleasure zinging through her body.

“I want to suck on you. First slowly, gently, until you’re so worked up you can’t stop squirming. I want to hear you moan as my tongue slides down and then inside of you.” He pauses to moan softly. In the background, she can hear the slick rhythm of him stroking himself. “I want you dripping for me.”

“For you,” Darcy repeats quietly.

“Then,” Bruce says, “I’d fuck you. No holds barred, no caution, no fear. Just you and me. I want to make you forget your own name.”

“Oh, Bruce,” Darcy says, panting. “I’m going to—”

“Do it,” he instructs. “Come for me. Let me hear you.”

“Oh, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce,” Darcy chants as she approaches the edge, and then flies off it. Pleasure streaks through her body, starting at her core before zipping down to warm her toes and leave her head rushing. Her head is thrashing, sending her phone sliding off her pillow, but she doesn’t care. The orgasm throbs through her, and she writhes with it, drawing out every last second of pleasure.

Finally, when it ebbs, she takes a deep breath and then blindly gropes around her sheets for her phone. When she puts it to her ear, she can hear the last few moments of Bruce’s own orgasm. She pouts lazily, wishing she had been able to hear it all.

Cuddling up to her pillow, she breathes, “Wow. Dr. Banner.”

“Darcy,” he says, sated and warm. Then, bashfully, “Was that…?”

“Holy shit,” she says with a laugh. “That was amazing, Bruce. And you…?”

“Oh yes,” he says, sounding both pleased and self-conscious.

“Stop overthinking,” Darcy instructs. “I wish I were there with you. I’m sure I could keep you distracted.”

 “You’re already doing that,” Bruce said.

They are quiet for a moment, basking. Then, Darcy ventures, “The Other Guy didn’t show up.”

“Thank God,” Bruce says.

Darcy laughs. “That might have killed the mood, if it had happened. But it was worth the risk to me.”

“Me too,” Bruce says. “I don’t think I could have done this in person, though. It was hard enough keeping some control without being able to _see_ you.”

 “The phone was a stroke of genius,” Darcy says. “It wouldn’t have been better if you’d planned it.” She hesitates when he doesn’t respond. “Did you plan this?”

“Tony said that I was neglecting you,” Bruce admits quietly. "He said that I owed it to you to try. And I'm glad he did."

 “You talk to Tony about our sex life? Actually, I don’t care. This was awesome. Again, please. Soon.”

 “I think we can arrange that,” Bruce says.

 “Even when I’m back in the Tower and we’re in the same room,” Darcy says. “Again. I liked hearing you.”

 Bruce chuckles, low and warm. “Go to sleep, Darcy.”

 With Bruce’s quiet voice in her ear, she does.

 

#

 

When Darcy gets back into the office after the holiday break, she has two whole days of quiet downtime to catch up on her emails before the world needs the Avengers again.

This time, it’s a wormhole opening up under Central Park Zoo which lets out a pack of dinosaurs from the Cretaceous Period. Darcy only knows the specific era because she’s listening on the comms in the van with Coulson when Clint makes a joke about being in Jurassic Park, and both Tony and Bruce immediately correct him about the correct era—Tony, mockingly, Bruce, idly.

Because it turns out that the specific dinosaurs invading New York City are from a specific era. When Darcy is informed about their species, she wishes it had been the Jurassic period.

“Those are velociraptors?” Darcy exclaims, squinting at the screens set up in front of them. Darcy is finally— _finally_!—on the ground with Coulson, though that ground is technically inside the SHIELD vans set up around the action's perimeter. The cameras from the Avengers’ gear are clear, but are moving as quickly as the superhero they’re attached to. The stationary cameras, which SHIELD hacked from local stores and street corners for a better look, are grainy. Still, the beasts they’re showing terrorizing upper Manhattan are not at all what Darcy had imagined. “Why are they all feathery?”

Bruce, who is on standby in another truck nearby until it’s deemed a Hulk-worthy situation, explains, “Paleontologists are going to have a field day with this, actually. It’s been theorized for some time that dinosaurs were likely feathered, and—”

“Save the lecture for the bedroom, Bruce,” Tony says. “This is why I watch the Discovery Channel on mute. Shit like this is much cooler without someone with a professor voice droning on over it.”

“You’re the last person who gets to complain about chatter on the comms,” Bruce snarks back, and Darcy grins.  

“Come on, Bruce,” Darcy croons, just to annoy Tony. “Tell me more about the feathers.”

There’s a choking sound from Bruce’s comm, and Darcy is reminded vividly of their phone sex last week.

“Miss Lewis,” Coulson scolds, though there’s the smallest twinkle in his eyes that says he’s amused.

“Your girlfriend can keep talking,” Tony says after a moment, magnanimous.

 

#

 

The dinosaur encounter gets resolved without the Avengers needing the Hulk’s help—or SHIELD’s, for that matter. Though the clean-up takes some of Darcy’s managing, it’s wrapped up within the next twenty-four hours. Darcy is left feeling both unsatisfied and slightly nauseated.

(Not all of the zoo’s inhabitants managed to escape from the influx of apex predators.)

(Those poor, poor sea lions.)

Bruce invites her for a date night when she gets back to the Tower the next night, and Darcy accepts gratefully. Even better, Bruce takes one look at her face and offers to cook for them instead of going out.

“You’re a good,” Darcy says, patting his curls so they bounce once before taking a seat at the kitchen counter to watch him cook.

To keep the mood romantic, they’ve eschewed the Tower’s central kitchen in favor of the smaller one on Bruce’s floor. It has the untouched feeling of photo from a catalog, like Bruce never uses it, but when he smiles at her warmly over the chopping board, it feels like home.

“So how was your day?” he asks.

That’s what’s so great about Bruce. He had known she wasn’t in the mood to go out, but didn’t press her for the whole story until she had a glass of wine in her hand and a quiet room to vent into.

“Bruce,” she began, and then sighed. “Sometimes this job sucks.”

“Is this about the seals?” he asks delicately.

“No, but thanks for that reminder,” Darcy says. “It’s that I finally got to be in the field--well, in the van, and I still wasn't doing anything important. I have a degree in political science. Diplomacy and managing people is what I’m supposed to be good at.”

“Darcy,” Bruce says, putting his chopping knife aside. “You are good at what you do. You're the only person who can get the Avengers to turn in their paperwork on time. That's an important job. I'm sure Coulson appreciates it.”

Darcy sighed and took another drink from her wineglass. “Sometimes I feel really outclasses here,” she admits. “It’s like the other guys see me as the team pet. Cute, but harmless, and not worth really respecting.”

“No one sees you that way,” Bruce insists.

“I’m not a superhero,” Darcy says. “I’m not even a Coulson. I’m just…a sidekick.”

“Darcy, if there’s a reason why they act casually around you, it’s because you’re their friend, not their sidekick. There’s not a person on our team who wouldn’t jump in front of a bullet for you. You can’t take the team not doing their paperwork on time as an insult,” Bruce says.

“Sorry, I’m being ridiculous. I just sometimes feel out of my league.” She spoke to her wineglass. “Especially compared to my super-genius boyfriend.”

“Darcy,” Bruce says, and it’s fond that she has to look up. He’s staring at her, affection in his eyes. “You can’t think that, in this relationship, _I’m_ the one dating down. I still don’t understand entirely why you picked me, but I know that I’m the lucky one.”

“I’m younger than you, less experienced, less intelligent, less important,” Darcy says. “Yeah, I’d say you’re dating down.”

Bruce laughs. “Should I be disappointed with my gorgeous younger girlfriend? I warned you when we first started dating that I’m too old for you, too experienced, too much of a target. But you wore me down.” He says it with a small smile so she knows he’s teasing. “You convinced me, and now that I have you, I’m going to try my best to keep you around. The longer it takes for you to realize how much better you can do than me, the more time I get with you.”

“You’re insane,” Darcy breathes.

“Darcy, you’re bright, vivacious, confident, beautiful—I feel lucky to know you, and that wouldn’t change based on something as frivolous as what job you have. I also, for what it’s worth, respect that job. Having you as the Avengers liaison takes a weight off of all of us. Not all of us trust SHIELD completely, and it helps to know that we can trust someone on the inside. Honestly, Darcy, you’re perfect.”

“Please kiss me.”

Bruce hesitates. If he hadn’t already put down his cooking tools, she’s sure he would have dropped them then. For a second, she’s not sure he’ll comply. Even after their phone sex, Bruce has been as delicate in person as ever with her.

But then he comes around the counter to stand in front of her. Sliding one hand through her hair to cup the back of her head, he pulls her in for a kiss. It starts slow, appreciative, exploratory. Then, Darcy sighs and opens herself up more. Bruce takes advantage of the offering to explore her mouth with his tongue, stroking her in a languid, seductive manner that makes the hairs on her arms stand up.

She leans into him, wrapping her arms around him, asking for more.

He gives it to her.

Slowly, firmly, he pulls her up so that she’s standing, and then runs a hand down her side. It hovers by her breast for a moment, pressing in just enough to make her moan, and then slides down to cup her ass.

He bites the edge of her lips, then traces a trail down the side of her neck. When she obligingly tilts her head to accommodate him, he growls softly. That sound reminds her so vividly of their phone sex adventure that she gasps.

“Not to pressure you,” Darcy ventures.

“Bedroom,” Bruce responds, answering the unasked question.

They move to his room, stumbling like a slow, intertwined dance because they can’t keep their lips and hands off each other long enough to walk. Normally, Darcy wouldn’t mind being pressed against every available surface by Bruce, but right now she really doesn’t want to miss the chance to be in a real bed with him.

He’s been so cautious with her, so worried that the wrong move would unleash the Hulk, that she wasn’t sure they would ever be here, making their way into his bedroom.

When she starts to unbutton her shirt, she almost expects him to pull away, but he just starts to work on his own shirt. Then she’s distracted, because there is substantially more chest hair than she had expected (stupid, considering his lovely arms), and wow—Darcy has a thing for men with chest hair.

Or, more specifically, for Bruce Banner with chest hair.

He gets his shirt off while she’s hesitating, and then takes over unbuttoning hers for her. Once she’s down to her bra and trousers, he backs them onto his bed. She lets him lead the way, and then scoots further back on the bed so that her feet aren’t hanging off. He follows, eyes dark and intent.

“Are we really doing this?” she asks softly, uneager to break the moment.

Bruce, as she worried, pauses with his lips on her collarbone. “If you want to,” he says. “After last week, I realized that you were worth the risk, if it’s something that would make you happy.”

“Oh, it would make me very happy,” Darcy says, “but don’t do it just for me.”

Bruce laughs weakly. “Believe me, Darcy. This isn’t just for you.” He presses another kiss to her collarbone, and then says, “Just promise me—if I tell you to leave, you leave. Immediately. No questions or debates.”

Darcy hates the idea, but she will do whatever it takes to make Bruce feel comfortable. “I promise,” she says.

“JARVIS is always monitoring the rooms I’m in,” he adds. “If he tells you to leave, listen to him too.”

“JARVIS is watching this?!” Darcy exclaims, jolting backward slightly.

Luckily, the AI doesn’t answer.

“I did ask him not to say anything if you and I… did something like this,” Bruce says. “And he’s not recording.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Darcy asks.

“I’m much more concerned about keeping you safe than I am about a computer watching us do something a million times tamer than the things he’s seen Tony do,” Bruce says.

“A million times sounds a little strong,” Darcy says, caving to the temptation to run her hands down Bruce’s back. “I’m sure we can close that gap a little.”

Bruce gasps slightly when her hands reach the small of his back and keep going. “We’ll ease into it,” he offers, which is enough for now.

Darcy blinks up at him, heavy-lidded in the way she knows makes her look sultry. “Kiss me,” she repeats, and he obeys.

From there, assured that he’s not going anywhere if he can help it, Darcy stops holding back. Their tongues tangle, and she explores his body with her hands as she wraps her legs around his thighs.

Compared to their phone interlude, which had involved Bruce throwing her onto a bed and having his quick, dirty way with her, tonight is slow and heady. He helps her kick off her pants, and then uses a finger to rub enticingly at her center. His lips trail down to suck on one of her nipples, and he stalls there for several minutes. While he kisses one breast, he uses his hands to stroke and squeeze the other, before switching sides. He hovers above her, and the rhythm he makes with his hands and lips matches the slow press of his thigh against her center.

Bruce isn’t the first man she’s been with who was obsessed with her rack, but he certainly the most thorough. By the time he moves back up to her lips, Darcy is panting and shaking. “Please, Bruce,” she says.

“The more prepared you are,” Bruce says quietly, as one hand meanders down her stomach, “the less time I’ll be spending out of control.”

“This isn’t affecting you?” she asks, partly offended, partly surprised. He seemed like he was extremely into what he was doing.

Bruce shook his head and pressed his hips closer so she could feel his length. “I wouldn’t say that,” he says. “Just, let me do this.”

“Go ahead,” she invites as his fingers meet her center. With those deft, scientist hands, he parts her folds and strokes her, spreading the wetness that’s already gathered. With his thumb, he rubs her clit, and uses two other fingers to press inside her.

She opens for him easily, so turned on that she’s dizzy with it.

“Please,” she moans as he sets up a slow, aching rhythm with his hand and the tongue in her mouth.   

Finally, he acquiesces. She feels the blunt head of him at her entrance, where he pauses. She looks into his eyes, which are warm, baffled, awed, and not the slightest bit green. Then, he presses inside.

She gasps at the sensation of fullness. He pauses again once he’s inside her, as though he’s just stepped on a pressure plate and is waiting for the explosion. When nothing happens, they lock eyes again, and he slowly pulls out, only to push in again.

“Bruce,” she says, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

They move together, slow at first, and then building, building. They kiss, and then he presses his face against her neck and murmurs adoring words.

“Harder, please,” Darcy requests. “I’m almost…”

He complies, moving faster and harder until she feels like she’s going to burst.

“Bruce, please,” she says, clutching at him.

“You’re so good,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. He moves his mouth to her ear. “Come for me, Darcy. Let me see it. Let me see what I do to you.”

And that’s all it takes. With his eyes on her, Darcy lets go, and feels her orgasm crash through her. If her orgasm during their phone sex had been a wave crashing over her, this was a monsoon, leaving her panting and drained. The aftershocks race through her body as Bruce finishes quickly after her, pounding for one last moment before tucking his face into her neck and groaning.

Darcy stares at the ceiling as he pulls out and moves so he can collapse beside her. “Wow,” she says.

Bruce slides an arm over her waist and snuggles close. “Good?” he asks.

“Ask me again once I remember how words,” Darcy says. Eventually, she recovers her breath and rolls over to face him. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks. “I assure you I enjoyed that even more than you did.”

“Thank you for taking the risk with me,” she clarifies. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” he says, leaning in for another, gentle kiss.

 

#

 

Darcy wakes up alone. She’d expected it, but it doesn’t make it a more pleasant experience. She had been on the edge of sleep when he’s slipped out, making a quiet excuse about nightmares. Though she’d reached out in protest to hold him back, he’d left.

Luckily, Darcy had been too tired to dwell on it, and had fallen immediately into sleep.

She understood why he’d decided to do it. He’d warned her before that he occasionally Hulked out at night, especially after experiencing a significant upset in his life. Darcy believes that their mind-blowing sex might have been the kind of change he was referring to.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, JARVIS," Darcy says to the ceiling, slightly bitter. The AI doesn't answer, but the silence feels deliberate.

Her ego still feels bruised until she walks into the kitchen and finds him standing over the stove, stirring eggs.

 “We never had dinner last night,” he says. “Sorry, I wanted to have this ready before you woke up.”

“Breakfast in bed?” she asks, padding to the counter and taking the seat she’d been in last night.

He has moved her wineglass to the sink, but takes a break from stirring the eggs to pour her a glass of water. “Next time,” he says.

“Maybe at some point I’ll get Bruce in bed,” Darcy says, and regrets it when he looks immediately guilty.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay the night,” Bruce says. “I was worried…”

“It’s fine,” Darcy says, standing up and moving around to hug him from behind. “I understand. Maybe someday, but no rush. I’ll take you any way I can have you.” He turns and kisses her briefly, and she adds, “And yes, that is an innuendo.”

“You know, this is similar to how we met,” Bruce says. “Only, you were the one cooking in your pajamas.”

“And swearing at a toaster, I think,” Darcy says. “I’m surprised you ever talked to me.”

“I’m not,” he says. “I thought you were fascinating. Gorgeous, too.”

“Keep talking like that and we might end up back in bed before we can eat this meal either,” Darcy warns him, smiling.

“Worth it,” he says, and leans in for another kiss.

 

 

 

 


End file.
